


You managed to get my baby to stop crying... (I just met you, is it too early to propose?)

by Heart_Of_Steel_And_Fandoms



Series: A bunch of AU's where two idiots (AKA Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes) get together. [3]
Category: captain america movies
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Prompt'd, Steve and Bucky meet on the bus, Steve is the baby whisperer, Steve's an Artist, Tumblr you steal my heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-20 06:57:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4777832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heart_Of_Steel_And_Fandoms/pseuds/Heart_Of_Steel_And_Fandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off a tumblr prompt that has DISAPPEARED FROM MY DASHBOARD, but basically it's 'I can't get my kid to stop crying and everyone on the bus is glaring daggers at me but as soon as you smile at us my kid stops crying, wtf, are you the babywhisperer?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	You managed to get my baby to stop crying... (I just met you, is it too early to propose?)

"Come on, Becca. Shhh, calm down. Becca, please, just calm down."

Bucky rocked Rebecca frantically on his knee, murmuring old Russian lullabies and meaningless platitudes in an attempt to soothe her. Nothing worked.

He could feel the glares of the other passengers on them both, the unspoken accusations that he couldn't take care of his daughter. He just kept getting more and more wound up, his nerves rayed and posture defensive, which only served to antagonize the whaling toddler on his lap further.

Her eyes were screwed shut, great fat tears rolling unhindered down her cheeks while she screamed her head off, face flushed.

"Becca, come on. What is it? What's wrong?" Bucky was borderline hysterical at that point, because his daughter was crying and he couldn't figure out how to fix it.

Rebecca's hiccupping sobs were drawing the wrath of everyone else on the bus, but nothing Bucky could do could get her to be quiet. They were on the late bus back to New York, after spending all day visiting his folks who were delighted to see their granddaughter.

Halfway through their six hour journey back, Becca had begun crying and she hadn't stopped since.

Bucky was used to getting weird glances from strangers because of his arm, but he had never been met with outright hostility before. Seemed a crying infant brought out the worst in people.

They were still an hour away from their stop, and Becca was showing no signs of being exhausted or letting up on her screaming. But the other travellers looked like they were contemplating a double murder.

Bucky was just starting to really consider getting off at the next stop and calling a taxi for the return journey (not that taxi drivers were any more forgiving of tearful children), because he figured maybe she just needed some fresh air. Wishful thinking never killed anybody.

Before he could do anything about the direction his thoughts were taking, namely decide one way or another on de-bussing, the bus stopped and a large, blonde haired man stepped on.

Scratch that. A large, gorgeous, specimen of the human race, with the bluest eyes Bucky had ever seen and muscles any man would kill for, carrying a backpack on one shoulder and a sketchpad, of all the things that could make Bucky weak at the knees, tucked under one arm.

Becca hiccupped/sobbed again, drawing the attention of new guy, and Bucky wanted to sink back into the uncomfortably padded seats in embarrassment.

Until the guy smiled at them. Like the fucking sun. If he was god-like while frowning down at something in his hand, he was completely breath-taking when he smiled.

His eyes crinkled, and the corner of his lips tipped up, and from this angle Bucky could see his slightly crooked nose that just added to his overall allure.

Bucky almost swallowed his tongue in the silence. Wait, silence...?

He glanced down in shock, and was greeted with a set of wide, teary eyes and a gaping mouth. But she wasn't crying. She had stopped crying. Because a stranger smiled at her.

Bucky grinned happily down at her, hardly believing his luck. If the other passengers' muttered exclamations were anything to go by, they felt the same way.

The stranger sat on the only free seat available, which, incidentally, happened to be directly across from Bucky. His blonde hair fell over one eye, and he shoved it back unthinkingly. It was probably wrong how much Bucky wanted to be the one to do that considering they just met. But Becca already liked him, so that had to mean Bucky had good taste right?

But blondey probably wasn't even single, let alone interested in guys. That didn't stop Bucky from hoping though.

Bucky leaned his head against the back of the seat, finally able to relax now that Becca had stopped trying to win an award for loudest screaming.

Blonde guy glanced over at him hesitantly, before squaring his shoulders and opening his sketchpad to a blank page. He seemingly pulled a pencil out of thin air, his hand lightly brushing the cream paper with a familiarity that spoke of hours of practice.

Bucky tried not to be nosy, he really did, but his curiousity got the better of him. He shifted Becca on his knee until he could see over to what the guy was drawing, but was disappointed to see he hadn't drawn anything yet. His hands, and wow, did he have nice hands, flexed unconsciously, and Bucky was completely screwed because he was observing the guy's fingers and thinking how they would feel on his body.

His preferably naked body.

God, he didn't even know blondey's name. If he wasn't so enraptured, Bucky might have been ashamed. Maybe.

Becca had just started to drift off in his arms while he stared out the bus window, when he felt a nudge on his arm.

It was blondey. "Hey, ummm," Shit, was he blushing? That was strangely endearing and not at all making Bucky wonder how far it travelled down his chest. At all.

"Sorry, to bother you, but, ehm, I was just wondering if I could have your name?" The guy winced at his own question, and Bucky snorted back a laugh.

"Smooth." He received a bright grin in reply. "It's Bucky." He said finally, enjoying the flush that still darkened the stranger's cheeks.

"Bucky?" Blondey tilted his head, and for once Bucky didn't think he was being mocked for his name, and he would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"James Buchannan Barnes. Hate being called James, Buchannan's too long, so Bucky it is. And you?"

Blondey's face, which had just started to return to an acceptable colour, flared up again. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry, my mother would be kicking me for my bad manners, so sorry." He took a deep breath, biting his lip to stop his rambling, before sticking out his hand in a weirdly old-fashioned gesture. "Steve. Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you, Bucky."

Blondey-Steve, Bucky mentally corrected, had a nice handshake. Okay, that was an understatement, he had a fucking awesome handshake, light enough not to crush his hand but strong enough to curse Bucky's head with other ways his strength could be used.

Bucky had no idea what it was about the all-american, buff, fantasy of a man, but he seemed to directly access all of his dirtiest fantasies with no more than a word or a handshake.

It would be a problem if Bucky didn't like it so much.

Steve glanced down at the sleeping baby in Bucky's arms, his expression softening. "She yours?" He asked Bucky, his thumb absentmindedly stroking the paper still sitting open on his lap.

Bucky nodded and grinned gently down at Becca. She might be a handful sometimes, but Bucky wouldn't trade her for anything in the world.

"Yeah," he murmured, "She is."

"Her mother's a lucky woman." Steve said, his eyes dark.

"Huh?" Bucky replied intelligently, before his brain caught up with what Steve was saying. "Oh! No, no, uhm, single parent. Well, I have my friends and everything, and my parents help out, but, no, it's just... just me."

Steve's answering beam made Bucky think that maybe there was hope that Steve was attracted to him after all.

Their conversation ended there, and Bucky saw Steve frantically leaned over his sketch pad, hand racing across the paper with a frenzy that caught Bucky's interest. But whatever way Steve was sitting meant Bucky couldn't see the drawing, and he had to swallow the flare of disappointment that that thought evoked.

He rested his head against the back of the seat, and closed his eyes.

Bucky awoke some time later to Steve's concerned face leaning over. "Buck. Hey, Bucky." Bucky groaned in response before wiping his eyes with the back of his flesh hand.

Steve was standing over him, his expression one of concern. "Hey, Bucky. I don't know where your stop is, and I kinda hope you haven't missed it, but I figured I'd better wake you up just in case. My stop's coming up now, we're in the city. Where you headed?"

"Brooklyn." Bucky managed to rasp, voice full of tiredness.

Steve's face lit up, and his eyes were brighter than the lights outside the windows. "Hey, me too! Well, I'm not headed there now, obviously, my friend's throwing a party in New York that I have to go to, but my apartment's there. Well, I live there. In an apartment. With my roommate. I'm going to shut up now."

Bucky smirked up at him, head still rested on the hard metal of the seat. "Brooklyn bro's." He said, instead of saying how very cute Steve was and how much he really wanted to take him home. There was certain things you couldn't say to someone you just met.

Steve just ducked his head, looking at Bucky from underneath his eyelashes in a way that could only be described as bashful. Becca murmured sleepily against his chest, her head tucked between his arm and the seat.

The bus pulled to a stop, and Steve scratched the back of his neck before quickly handing Bucky a folded A3 page.

"For you." He said, avoiding Bucky's eyes. With a swift, graceful movement he picked up the straps of his bags and strolled off the bus, sparing only a quick glance behind him to flash Bucky a smile.

Bucky waited until the bus had begun moving again, knowing there was only a few minutes left until his stop. He unfolded the paper, and suddenly lost all his breath.

It was a breath-taking drawing, all broad strokes and dark lines, more like a picture than anything else. Bucky could recognise himself and Becca, his own head tilted back, slack in sleep. Their every feature was carefully crafted, their faces and bodies real in a way Bucky had rarely seen anyone pull off. His metal arm was incredibly detailed, and each strand of hair seemingly coloured individually. The background was blurred, the focus of the entire piece on Bucky and Becca, rather than their surroundings.

Steve might have been greek godlike in his appearance, but god damn it he could draw. Bucky had a thing for artists of any kind.

It was then he noticed the scrawl on the other side, messy yet readable.

Bucky,  
The way you look at your daughter is so incredible I thought I had to get you two down on paper. Hope you don't think I'm a creepy stalker now. If you ever want to get in touch, here's my number. -Steve  
By the way, I think you look amazingly beautiful when you smile.

Bucky grinned and tucked the paper into the inner pocket of his coat. He kissed Becca on the head. His daughter was the. Best. Wingman. Ever.

 

\---

 

Bucky hangs the picture (he kept it over the entire duration of their boyfriend-hood, and right up to their engagement and subsequent marriage) over the bed in every room they ever share, ignoring all Steve's protestations. It's quickly joined by hundreds of Steve's other drawings, spilling out into the sitting room and halfway into the kitchen. Bucky has plans to turn their second spare room into one just for Steve's art, but Steve doesn't know yet.

Becca delights in being the flower girl at their wedding, with their friends Natasha and Sam acting as their best woman/man. At Bucky's stag night he spends the entire evening raving about all of Steve's attributes, and somehow the video ends up on YouTube. He blames Clint, but can't be too angry because when Steve finds out it got millions of views he blushes the prettiest colour. Bucky takes great pleasure in mapping the blush down his chest.

They adopt an abused golden retriever from the local pound (C'mon Stevie, it's the perfect dog! Now you have someone else to run with at fuck o'clock in the morning!) and name it Captain, and he's quickly followed by a stray cat they name Winter, who takes great pleasure in routinely shredding their curtains. Becca loves him though, so he stays even with his fabric-tearing ways.

Bucky never thought he would be the domestic type, but waking up to Steve's smiling face, and Becca's delighted shrieks, and Cap's exuberant barking, and the meowing of Winter grumpily demanding food, well. He thinks he's found his calling.

Steve loves Bucky. And Bucky loves Steve. They both love Becca, who makes it a point to mime retching whenever they kiss in front of her, but everyone knows she secretly loves it. And maybe they're not the conventional family, but none of them have ever been happier.

And that's all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> So... thoughts? This took me forever to write, and I'm going to be late for a party, but I just had to get it finished! Please tell me what you think!


End file.
